The Pregnant Witch Poem by Anil Kumar Panda

From the old building with
Cracked walls comes the sound
Of a child moaning in pain
Just dropped from a bleeding belly

When the moon rises into
The middle of the sky
And the wind blows whispering
Bizarre tales about love gone lost
In to the old well in the middle
Of the village
The roaming visages draped
In dark shrouds hear the cry

The saplings of banyan
Stare from inside the cracks
As the womb is blown up
Spilling thick blood of treachery

The scarecrow stands in the middle
Of the field to keep a watch
On the hungry owls making
Sorties to sip blood of the witch